


I'm John Watson, Your Star

by timey_wimey_wayward_lock



Series: When You Wish Upon A Star [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU where John is a star, John is a star, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, POV John Watson, ShootBadCabbies, Star!John, Starjohn, shootbadcabbies created this, there is drug reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timey_wimey_wayward_lock/pseuds/timey_wimey_wayward_lock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Space was a beautiful spot, filled with millions of things still unknown to the human race. Galaxies shone brightly, other beings roamed freely. But even with such beauty, a star's life was not always what it may seem. Each star waited their entire lives to be Wished upon. There was no contact with family stars, nor really any conversation at all. </p><p>John was a burning ball of gas, a soul trapped in science, waiting to be freed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm John Watson, Your Star

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy this little story I wrote! I absolutely adore this AU, and I would just like to personally thank shootbadcabbies (http://shootbadcabbies.tumblr.com/) for creating it! All of the credit goes to her for the idea of the AU.
> 
> Any questions or comments; feel free to leave them for me! if you see any errors, also tell me so I can fix them. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (And be sure to check out my other fan fictions, if you'd like :D )
> 
> EDIT: This is now part of a series called "When You Wish Upon A Star". Keep yourselves updated for more fics to be added to the series. They are all related to one another! The second one has currently already been added and it is called "Lonely Days".

The void was endless black, tugging and twisting, pushing and shoving; the feverish tendrils of dark sucking the star in.

One moment John had been up in the sky, waiting as he always had. His whole existence was on the line, waiting for someone to call for him. He was constantly hoping for that Wisher, the one who would love him and who he would always love in return. The one person he was destined to help and save. His soulmate. But, that task meant waiting for many years; millions and trillions of years.  
Space was a beautiful spot, filled with millions of things still unknown to the human race. Galaxies shone brightly, other beings roamed freely. But even with such beauty, a star's life was not always what it may seem. Sometimes you could find them dancing up in the galaxies; the young stars who didn't know of their task yet. But each star hit a point where all they did was wait. There was no contact with family stars, nor really any conversation at all. John was a burning ball of gas, a soul trapped in science, waiting to be freed.

The silence had raged on, holding John paralyzed but awake, still yearning for his Wisher. Every day felt as if it would be the day, and to his rather non-existent happiness, it never was. It wad endless, terrible, and it dragged out so much that John feared he would go insane. An insane star had never been heard of, but he could sure be the start of something new if he must-.

Suddenly, there was a voice. A deep baritone that pierced through the silence. It was rough and tired, almost weak as it rang out in John's mind. It reverberated through his soul a few times, alerting him through his surprise about what it was. /His Wisher!/

There was a man who called out for help, for a friend, for someone to accept him. The man sounded so desperate, so lovely, but yet so sick. He thought it ridiculous of himself to be calling out on the stars, as he stated, but yet his need for someone became too much to keep that statement alive. He was growing weak as he finished his prayer, towards John, who seemed to be shining the brightest for him. Of course he was, John's soul was now lighting and calling out towards the man; needing him.

And John found he was falling. His stomach did flips and he became dizzy with the swirling. Black was all around him, and it was endless. The star found screaming was pointless, as did moving his arms or legs, so he just fell. He realized that he was transforming; never before had he thought about arms and legs. But yet, he had them. He became a man, a glowing man, who was falling from the sky. His skin was tingling and it burned as he kept falling. His eyes were unable to see a destination. The only thing he could focus on was the void, and the deep voice that had called for him. It was now the time for John to fall to that voice. If the man had made a mistake, it would be John's end, but if not John would prosper as a human. Just like the both of them needed. Two souls waiting for the chance to reconnect.

There was a loud noise, and John's body suddenly stopped. He was no longer falling, no longer yearning. He felt - different. And he was. When the star opened his eyes, he took in his surroundings. He was in a run down building. Paint was cracking and falling off the walls, not to mention the other substances that littered the place. John scrambled up to his feet - he had feet! - and tried to understand where he was. There was no sign of his Wisher, and he soon became to grow terrified. Where was Sherlock? Had he landed in the wrong area?!  
The star, who seemed to be in his early twenties, stumbled around in search. His hair was blond, and cut short. His skin was slightly tanned, and it glowed. He could make it dim, of course, to conceal his identity, but he didn't just yet. His eyes were a navy blue that swirled like the galaxies and the sea, showing flecks of other colours. His feet left gold footprints that slowly disappeared over time and his hair was slightly littering gold dust. John shook his head, coughing at the sparkles, and then he worked at moving his naked body. He became to know how to walk, and so he moved in search of his human.

Along the way he saw many things that struck fear in his soul. People were lying on beds and sofa's, dead to the world. They seemed to be alive, but yet wasting it away in another state. They had needles and powder everywhere. It was a terrifying sight, to see such beautiful humans hurting themselves; but John knew what he had to do. He had to help his Wisher first. On his way he acquired a pair of clothes, which he slipped on, and then he headed towards the end of the hall, stepping inside.

There he was. John Watson's Wisher.

He lie on a mattress, in nothing more than rags. His eyes were closed, but surely bloodshot, and his skin was pale. He had a light scruff of hair on his face, and he looked deathly skinny. A needle was sticking out of his arm, fuelling him with a drug that John despised. He was ruining himself. Such a beautiful, perfect human, and he was just throwing his life away.

John let out a soft cry and he slid forwards, removing the needle slowly, and working to wake the man. He was so very weak, his soul slowly fading. Sparkling tears were falling down John's face. He had to save him! He couldn't let such a beautiful man, his soulmate, die like this!

Sliding his arms around the unconscious man, John heaved and picked him up. He made way out of the room, and through the house. He was going to get his Wisher to a healer. Rather, to a doctor, as the humans called them, who could fix him. John didn't care how long it took, he would wait forever, and it wouldn't be much of a problem for a star who had already waited millions. But, he would help Sherlock, no matter what it took.

Just as they reached the end of the stairs, John heard a voice. He looked down to the man in his arms, who had opened his eyes to look up. He was disoriented, confused, questioning - but yet still sharp. He was wondering who John was, unsure of where he was being taken. Yet John could also spot something else in the man's verdigris orbs as well; he knew he was safe.

He was home, and in the arms of the one person he had wished for. A friend, a lover, a companion.

"Yes, Sherlock Holmes. I'm John Watson, your star."


End file.
